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“Very good. Is there anything you wouldn’t like to do tonight?”
I thought about it a moment. “Um, no. Not really. And I’ll tell you if you do something I don’t like, but I’m open to pretty much anything that’s going to feel good.”
“And is there anything in particular that you would like me to do to you tonight?” He stood again and closed the distance between us, but he didn’t touch me. He just stood there, looking down at me with his gorgeous, devious smile.
My heart was beating somewhere in the vicinity of my collarbones. I thought my pulse might choke me. “I don’t want you to go too easy on me. Part of what gets me off when I’m with you is the way you tell me to do things, the way you can get a little rough. I don’t want you to smack the shit out of me, but don’t treat me with kid gloves. Make me submit.”
“Is that an order?” He grinned. “That’s not terribly submissive.”
I took a step forward, bringing my bare skin against his, and smirked up at him. “Maybe I need a better teacher.”
His hand came up to lightly grip my lower jaw, his thumb pressing hard, but not painfully, into my cheek, and I gasped.
“Do you?” His tone was completely different, a dark, low voice that was a caress and a bite all at once. My spine stiffened, my eyes went wide, and I shook my head as much as I could with his hand holding my face.
“I can’t hear you, Sophie.”
“No,” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “No, Sir.”
“I would like you to start touching yourself.” He left me and went to the bed. He watched my hand trail down my stomach, let me get almost to the Promised Land before he stopped me. “Not there.”
I pulled my fingers guiltily from the waistband of my panties.
“Cup your breasts,” he ordered, and I did, grateful to ease the aching pressure in them. My thumb strayed over my nipple, and he tutted disapprovingly. “I didn’t say you could do that. Take your hands away.”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I whispered, and though I ached, I did as he’d commanded. I was dripping wet and throbbing. I felt high, actually high, from the barest physical sensation.
He waited a long time, watching me with my hands at my sides, making nervous fists beside my thighs. He braced his elbows on his knees, one hand falling between them, like he was sitting in front of a television and not a desperate, panting woman. “You’re doing very well.”
“Please,” I moaned. My breasts were tight and hot, my nipples hard peaks. I had to touch them. The air in the room hadn’t seemed chilly before, but I shivered slightly, and goose bumps raised on my skin.
“Please what?”
“Please, Sir, let me...” What? Come? I knew there was no way. We’d just barely started, and he’d been willing to let me go the entire weekend. “Touch myself,” I finished, my voice a pathetic whimper.
He waited for an eternity, considering. His gaze moved up and down my body. I swore I could feel it.
“Nothing below the waist,” he said finally. His eyes fixed on my fingers as I rolled my nipples against my thumbs. “What do we say now, Sophie?”
“Thank you, Sir,” I groaned. Standing before Neil, touching myself the way I was, I had this crazy thought that I wasn’t me. I was some other Sophie, who had no rules or obligations. No worries. No student loans. Every mundane detail of my life melted away, and I was just some girl in some hotel room, doing whatever it took to get fucked by the man sitting in front of me.
Unbelievably, the familiar sensation of the beginning of an orgasm coiled behind my clit as I pinched and tugged my nipples. Growing bolder under his stare, I dropped my head back with a loud moan.
“Don’t come.”
My eyes snapped open, and I straightened, my fingers stilling. He was absolutely serious, a little bit cross with me, even. Though I knew we were just pretending, excitement licked through me like white-hot flame.
He rose and walked slowly behind me once more. Grabbing my hips so suddenly that I gasped and staggered slightly, he forced me to bend at the waist and brought our clothed pelvises against each other.
“You will be allowed to come tonight. But not yet. Not right now.” My cunt clenched at his words. “You’ll beg me to let you come, first, and then you’ll beg me to let you stop.”
Beg to stop coming? I couldn’t imagine asking for any such thing. That would be like asking to be denied air or food. I ground back on him. He released me, one arm sliding along mine to catch my hand and steady me on my feet.
